


Of Bitter and Sweetness

by BaconWaffle16



Series: Growing Pains [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends AU, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other, Running Away, Selective Mute!Saeran, Short, Smol Choi Bois, Srsly they're ten years old, Warning: Disturbing Shit happening to children, childhood AU, spoilers for seven's name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaconWaffle16/pseuds/BaconWaffle16
Summary: “...Do you understand, Saeran? If we stay here, we will die.”“Then we run.”~After a rough night with their mother, two genius brothers make a decision that is admittedly, probably not the smartest. And then, they meet her.





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: While it isn't exactly graphic, there are depictions of child abuse --physical and emotional--in this fic. The next chapter is a little lighter.

* * *

Ever since they were born ten years prior, Saeyoung and Saeran were always together. But that’s pretty much a given when it comes to a pair of twins.

“—you worthless little shit!”

Just as he freezes, green eyes wide, Saeran feels himself pulled back and Saeyoung steps up to take the hit from their mother. As her foot lands on his brother’s back, Saeran looks up to see her and the flaring madness in her amber eyes, the kind of hate that will haunt him for a long, long time. With wide green eyes, he whimpers and directs a desperate look to Saeyoung.  

Despite the grunts and the agony in his eyes, Saeyoung looks back at Saeran with a crooked grin. A grin that usually means trouble when they’re in school, when he finds someone to prank, or a teacher to pick fights with. He mouths a brief sentence, one that Saeran understands immediately, because it’s already so familiar. He feels something clench his heart, feels tears bead his eyes, but he still nods.

With a roar of rage, their mother punches Saeyoung in the back, this time knocking him to the kitchen floor. Saeran cringes at the resounding crack that echos when Saeyoung’s jaw hits the floor, but continues watching as _she_ grabs his ankle and starts pulling him away. Gold eyes light with fear, but that doesn’t stop Saeyoung attempting to kick her away.

“Get off me,” he screams, continues to scream as he’s pulled down the hallway, to the cellar, to _Hell_. “ _Get the hell off me!_ ”

“Shut up” she hisses back. She lets out another scream and slams the door closed.

Saeran pulls his knees to his chest, hovers his hands near his ears, but feels too horrified and sick to fully cover them. Not when Saeyoung is so far away, not when he’s _getting hurt_ and he can’t do anything.

(“When you get the chance,” is what Saeyoung mouthed, “run.”)

Shaking from toe to tip, he slowly stands up from the floor. He stares down the dark hallway for a moment, eyes the locked cellar door in the darkness. The screams are muffled now, with the occasional faint _Bang, bang_ , but Saeran knows he wouldn’t be able to fight his mother off. Not when she’s got access to all her stuff down there.

( _Dirty...worthless...monster._ )

Saeran chokes, then turns away. He stumbles out of the kitchen and sprints up the stairs, towards the room where he and Saeyoung sleep. As soon as the door is closed, he quickly locks the door with the new key he and Saeyoung designed after stealing from a local hardware store. Then he slides down to the icy floor, his back to the door. Dull green eyes stare ahead for a beat before Saeran hugs his knees to his chest, and buries his face in them.

A long while later, maybe hours, maybe less—Saeran can never tell— _she_ is at the door.

“Saeran,” she coos, her tone sweet and reminiscent of the woman she is sometimes, the woman that Saeran almost believes loves him and Saeyoung. “Saeran, baby, are you in there?”

He stares ahead with wide eyes, but remains silent.

“...Are you mad at me, baby?”

“...” 

“I’m sorry,” she says in a choke. From the other side, she inhales a shaky breath, her voice rather watery. “I’m so sorry, my dear. To both of you.”

“...” 

“It’s just that...when you looked at me tonight, you reminded me of him so much.” 

Saeran bites back a whimper, then smacks his hands to his ears. Even so, her tender voice still sounds so loud. 

“Your daddy is so handsome, especially with those eyes—the eyes _you_ inherited. I look at you sometimes, and…” 

 _Please._  

“...You know I love you best, right Saeran?” 

 _Please, no._  

“I love your brother too, even if he causes me and his teachers so much grief,” she says with a laugh, like it’s a joke. “I swear, he will become a criminal by the time he’s fifteen, and bring further shame to us.” 

 _Just stop._  

“You though, my sweet Saeran. You will be _amazing._ Just like Daddy.” 

He clenches his eyes closed, gritting his teeth. Even though the door is preventing her from coming in, Saeran can feel the ghost of her hands stroking his small shoulders, his arms; he can even feel her cold breath against the shell of his ear. 

( _Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty—_ ) 

“My beautiful boy, perfect little boy,” she says, her voice low. 

A shot of searing _hate_ pierces through him, and Saeran directs a glare through the door. 

 _Die._  

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

_Just DIE, already._

“...Fine.” She shuffles to her feet and says one last thing, her voice cold, like the dead, yet also lilting. “Have a good night, Saeran~”

He waits until the shuffles of her feet become distant. He listens to her open the door of her own room, waits for her to slump inside. Then, her door closes. Deep snores soon follow.

Saeran takes in a deep breath, then another; and then one more. When he feels like it’s enough, he slowly stands up. He unlocks the door, looks back and forth in the hallway, and then silently sneaks back downstairs. He shudders at the sight of the hallway, but swallows his fear. Saeyoung needs him.

The cellar is cold as usual. Bigger than their bedroom, and probably the house’s main floor plan, the walls are covered with stone. From floor to ceiling, it is nothing but brick, concrete, and asbestos. It is dank, wet, and spattered with specks of liquids that definitely aren’t water. Hanging from the wall at the end is an array of canes, and strips of worn and stained leather. And in the corner of that wall, sitting with his back to the wall with his head tipped forward, is…

 _Damn it!_  

Saeran runs to Saeyoung and crouches next to him. He immediately checks Saeyoung’s back and notices the stains of blood seeping through the shirt. He cringes, tasting bile, then sits back to try to look at Saeyoung’s face. He places a shaky hand to his shoulder and tries to shake him. 

Slowly, almost too slowly, Saeyoung picks his head up and looks at Saeran. His eyes, usually bright like gold and full of laughter (even if most of it is a lie), are dull. Dull and empty and tired, almost dreamy. Like he isn’t even there right now. 

He hates that. It’s not a good look on Saeyoung. 

With a trembling frown, Saeran shakes his brother some more. Some light seems to come back into those eyes, and Saeyoung blinks. 

“...Oh, hey, Saeran,” he almost laughs, before pausing and frowning. “I thought I told you to stay in our room…”

Saeran clenches and loosens his hand, wanting to punch but knowing it isn’t the right time for it. Instead, he inhales sharply, angrily, and lightly slaps the back of Saeyoung’s head. 

“Hey! The hell, man?!” Saeyoung near sobs. “Haven’t I suffered enough for today?” 

Saeran rolls his eyes. _Idiot._  

Then he grabs Saeyoung’s wrist and tugs the arm over his shoulders. With his shoulders and back close to Saeyoung’s chest, Saeran hoists them both up and guides them back up the cellar. 

In the end, it’s Saeran’s idea. 

“...At least it was the leather and not the cane,” Saeyoung mutters, then hisses as Saeran dabs some hydrogen peroxide to the newest wounds on his back. “Doesn’t leave as bad scars.”

Saeran frowns at the new slashes, the newest scars to a collection _she_ started not too long ago. At this rate, Saeyoung and he would have the same amount of scars, would be complete mirror images of each other. The way twins are supposed to be.

He swallows the sick feeling in his throat and continues dabbing at the wounds, praying that they won’t get infected. Then, when most of the redness has been washed, he starts applying the bandages.

Saeran stares at the back of Saeyoung’s head, hoping that his brother would say something more. Maybe say a joke? Most of his jokes are stupid, Saeran knows, but they are the brightest thing that get the brothers through a rough night like this. Well, them, and the talks of growing up and leaving this hell of a house.

“...Nine years.”

Saeran watches as Saeyoung tilts his head, his shoulders slumping with fatigue.

“...Y-y-you know, that doesn’t feel so long at first,” Saeyoung continues, his voice trembling. “I used to think that those years would breeze by like that, that we’d be out of here before we could even blink.

“...But I don’t think I can wait that long anymore.”

Saeran widens his eyes. _What is he saying?_

Once the bandages are on, Saeyoung turns to Saeran. While the sadness in his eyes are there, the colors there are also sharp, burning the way they do whenever Saeyoung is thinking of a prank, a new invention, or even an algorithm he can use to hack a multibillion dollar business.

“Do you understand, Saeran?” He asks, his voice not even developed yet, but still hard, resolute. “If we stay here, we will die.”

Saeran knows a lot of things about himself, but here are three truths that he will hold on to, for as long as he can.

One: The world is ugly and cruel, full of very little people to trust but many who will do great harm.

Two: Even though he might be worthless, and filthy, and everything else that his mother has said of him, Saeran will always have his twin brother to rely on. Because who else can understand the hell they live in?

Three: Saeyoung is a know-it-all, a pretty frustrating one to live with, let alone love; but he is right.

And so, for the first time in a long time, Saeran speaks his thoughts out loud.

“Then we run.”

Saeyoung stares, his eyes gleaming. “...Where to?”

He frowns deeply, his green eyes bright with something burning from inside him. “Anywhere that isn’t here.”


	2. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a confrontation between smol children, angst, food and...a friendship is born?
> 
> Sure, let's go with that.

* * *

“She’s back again.”

Saeyoung looks up from his smartphone and looks at Saeran, who is peeking out from the opening of their tent. His expression is blank overall, but his eyes are gleaming with a sort of curiosity, mixed with caution. For a moment, Saeyoung isn’t sure what he means, but then he frowns.

“Seriously?” He pockets the phone and crawls to the opening. “Stay here, I’ll take care of it.”

Saeran quirks an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do? Bite her again?”

“Hey, whatever works, right,” Saeyoung says with a shrug that looks more carefree than he feels. Then he steps out from the tent and sees her.

She is about an inch shorter than he and Saeran, wearing the jumper of some local elementary school. Her hair is brown, and lands on her shoulders, framing her plump face. Her eyes are a light hazel, big and gleaming with warmth, much like a star. In another time, another place, Saeyoung would have found her cute. Probably would have tried to pull her attention to him, either with laughter or flustered yells, the way he does whenever he wants to befriend someone.

(Hint, hint: It never works. But hey, who needs friends when all you need is your twin, right?)

But Saeyoung sees her, standing under _their_ bridge and a little too close and curious for comfort, and sees only another threat. Someone to tattle to adults, perhaps even police, to lead to him and his brother going back to _her_. 

Saeyoung can’t let that happen. He won’t.

And so, as she slowly steps towards him, he forces his mouth to form a sneer and clenches his fists at his sides.

“I thought I told you to stay away from us.”

She winces a little at him, something that makes Saeyoung taste something sour for a moment before remembering himself; but then she regards him with a hard look, her mouth a firm line. She also clenches her fists.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” she says. “I just wanted to give you two something.”

Saeyoung tightens his arms to his sides. He doesn’t want to fight this girl, or bite her again, but he won’t let his guard down.

“We don’t want it,” he says, putting as much ice as he could.

She looks at him some more, blinks her big, starry eyes twice, and then turns around. But she does not leave.

Saeyoung watches as she removes her backpack and crouches down to search through it. His arms remain rigid at his side, his throat seizing. _What is she doing…?_  

“I said we don't want it!”

But the girl says nothing but a low sound of triumph. Then she pulls something out, stands back up, and turns around to face Saeyoung. In her hands, tiny and gentle looking, is a sealed Tupperware bowl. 

Saeyoung blinks. “Huh…?” 

She smiles back. “I made an extra lunch today, for you two! It has rice, and chicken, a-and some vegetables, and…”

As she rambles on, occasionally stalling to stutter out a word, and keeps on that smile, Saeyoung finds he has no idea how to respond. He stares at the plastic bowl, his mouth watering at the idea of real food, but feels a clench of fear. Because there's no way this is real. No one is this kind, especially after someone has treated them horribly. And no one would spare kindness to someone like him. So why…? 

“—Oh, do you want some?” 

Saeyoung blinks and sees the girl looking past him. When he turns, he sees Saeran poking his head out of the tent. He shares one look with Saeyoung, blinks once, then looks at the girl. His green eyes glint with curiosity. 

“I got some food for you and your brother,” she tells Saeran, her smile wide as she offers the bowl. “Would you like some?” 

Saeran blinks, then stares at the bowl. After another glance at Saeyoung, he steps out from the tent. Then he approaches the girl. Saeyoung opens his mouth to protest, his pupils shrinking in his panic, but only a choked sound escapes him. Saeran continues towards her; when he’s close enough, the girl seems to grin wider. Saeyoung doesn’t understand how someone could smile so much. 

“Hang on a sec.” She removes the lid, allowing a faint savory aroma escape, and she holds it out for Saeran. “Here you go!”

Saeran stares, first at her, and then at the food. Saeyoung steps up to them, but stays to the side, just close enough to protect Saeran if he needs it. He watches them closely, feeling his pulse scream in his ears. 

“...Oh! You guys need chopsticks, right?” She says, suddenly with a tone of guilt. She looks back towards her bag. “Um, I think mine are clean enough—” 

But Saeran grabs a piece of chicken before she finishes. He locks gazes with her, his green eyes still masking his emotions; the girl swallows under the stare, but doesn’t waver her eyes. Saeyoung clenches his hand, shifting his gaze from one to the other. 

Then, Saeran takes a bite from the chicken. And then, another. Humming softly, he starts gobbling what’s left of the chicken in his hand until there are only crumbs. When he looks up at the girl again, his eyes are a little brighter. Not exactly happy, but it’s enough for the girl to start smiling again. 

She shares a glance at Saeyoung and giggles a little, looking like an anxious mix of relieved and happy. Saeyoung feels some tension leave his shoulders, but keeps up his deep frown at her. Despite that, the girl smiles back at Saeran and pushes the plastic bowl towards him. 

“Take it,” she says, her voice soft and gentle and warm, like summer. 

Saeran stares at her a moment, then slowly nods. He gently takes the bowl and turns to Saeyoung. His mouth twitches upward, the closest to a smile he usually achieves, and reaches the bowl towards him. 

Gold eyes look at the food, finally, and they dilate. The chicken looks brown, but not overcooked; like it had been marinating in something sweet and spicy. With the chicken is fried rice, which is slightly burned, but still looks edible. It doesn’t look perfect, looks nothing like the ideal home cooked meal you see on television, but it still looks _delicious_. Not even their mother had made such an effort. No one has ever made an effort for Saeyoung and Saeran. 

Saeyoung feels his stomach ache, empty and longing. When was the last time he ate? When was the last time Saeran ate? 

He looks up at Saeran who has always been the more sickly of the two. He notes how slight his brother is, how gaunt he’s gotten since they left home a week ago. His lips start to tremble. 

( _I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him, I can’t, I can’t, **I won’t**._ ) 

Licking his mouth, Saeyoung paints on a smile. “Nah, Saeran. You have it. I’ll be okay.” 

Saeran falters, his mouth forming a firm line. His green eyes swarm with all the things he can’t say, not while in company. Saeyoung reads him immediately, the way he does with books but _better_ , and he widens his smile. 

“No, really. I can handle it.” 

Green eyes flash with anger, and Saeran sets his jaw. _Liar_ , his whole face says. Saeyoung shrugs, but his grin trembles. 

“W-w-wait!”

When Saeyoung looks at the girl, she looks much like she did when he bit her, stricken and scared. It makes his heart clench. She really does seem nice… 

“Th-th-there’s en-enough for both of you!” She says, her voice choked, her eyes gleaming. “I made sure...so please.” 

Saeyoung notices tears bead from her eyes, and his heart thuds. He steps forward, reaching his hands out— 

“N-no, don’t cry,” he starts. “I’m okay, so…!” 

“I have chips, too! A-and some other snacks, too, and—” 

“Wait. What kind of chips?”

* * *

Saeyoung hums in pleasure as he chews on another chip, and when he swallows once more, he feels like crying. _So sweet, so salty! So perfect, oh my god._  

Sitting next to him, her legs curled beneath her, the girl is smiling. “Do you like them?”

“They’re _great_!” Saeyoung beams—but then clears his throat, his cheeks flushing. He quickly looks away, masking himself with a stoic frown. “I-I mean, they’re okay. I _guess_.” 

She giggles, though. Not in the way most girls laugh at him, but in that warm, playful way. Like she can be a friend, rather than just another face.

(“...Stay away from us!”)

He cringes to himself. _Maybe not…_  

“Oh, don’t eat so fast,” she says to Saeran, who is sitting next to Saeyoung, his legs folded. He pauses in wolfing down the bowl of chicken and rice. When he looks at her, she adds gently, “You’ll get sick.” 

Saeran chews silently for a moment, then glances at his food. After swallowing, he nods in understanding. Then goes back to eating, albeit slower.

She beams. Then, after letting out a soft “Oh, _right_ ”, she reaches into her backpack and pulls out two familiar red cans.

“I got you two these,” she says, reaching out both hands to either boy. “I hope Ph.D Pepper is—” 

Both Saeyoung and Saeran snatch the cans from her hands. 

Blinking wide eyes, she watches as both brothers open the cans with quick precision. They both share a grin and clink the cans together, before tipping the cans back and gulping down the soda. She snorts under her breath, then bites her bottom lip, tries not to laugh.

“Ah, Ph.D Pepper,” Saeyoung sighs after swallowing, a dreamy look in his gold eyes. “The good Lord’s nectar.”

“The drink of champions,” Saeran drones, but with a small smile.

“A miracle among those _scrubs_ they call sodas.”

“The true Master of drinks.”

“Better looking than Pepsi—”

“Richer than Coca-Cola—”

“And more magical than Sprite,” they finish in unison. Then, with another grin, Saeyoung and Saeran share a laugh. 

She covers her giggle as she watches them, but it’s enough to remind the brothers that they aren’t alone. Saeyoung bristles and immediately puts on a frown, turning to stare ahead and avoid _her_ , while Saeran gives him an odd look. Then he leans forward, blinks stoic green eyes at her. 

“So, what’s your name,” he asks. 

She grins wide, her cheeks pinking a little, like she thought neither of them would ask. 

“I’m Mi-Cha,” she says. “I’m ten years old!” 

Saeran nods. “Cool. So are we.” 

Saeyoung sends him a frantic look. _What the…?_  

Glancing back at him, Saeran smirks. _Interesting._  

Then he looks back at Mi-Cha, and tries to smile in a way that he hopes is friendly. “My name is—”

A hand slams on his mouth.

“We need to talk!” Saeyoung yells, his face blanched. “Excuse us.”

Mi-Cha watches as he drags Saeran to a corner under the bridge, far from her hearing. She tilts her head and blinks, bemused.

“Dude, what the hell?” Saeyoung hisses, his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “We can’t just give out our names like that!”

Saeran blinks, absolutely deadpan. “Why not?”

“Because we don’t know her. She could report us to the police, or back to mom, or worse—”

“But she brought us food.”

“That doesn’t mean we should trust her!”

“I’m not saying we should trust her. But if she wanted to report us, don’t you think she would have done it already?” Quirking a brow, Saeran adds, “Especially after you bit her?”

Saeyoung pauses, feeling a twitch go through him. He shifts his gaze away, frowning. _He’s got a point…but still._

“...Maybe she did,” he says.

“Then where are the police?”

“I-I don’t know! But we shouldn’t...we can’t…”

_I can’t risk us getting hurt. I can’t risk losing you. I won’t._

Saeran stares at Saeyoung, watches as his brow furrows, his gold eyes dim with doubt and hurt and distrust. On any other day, his eyes would mirror the same feelings, the same thoughts. But then, Saeran glances at the girl— _Mi-Cha, that’s her name_ —and then at the bowl he left behind, and his mind turns with ideas.

“...If we keep being nice to her,” he says, finally. “She’ll bring us food.”

Saeyoung blinks, the realization dawning on him. Hunting for food wouldn’t likely work, and would be very risky to their health, and the rations that they’d brought from home are already low. They have no money, and stealing is hardly an option—too much risk.

 _But_ , he glances over at Mi-Cha, who is still staring at them, her eyes clouded with concern; Saeyoung hums in thought. _Maybe she can be the answer…_

“Besides, she’s kind of cute.”

Red rushes to Saeyoung’s cheeks, floods all the way to the tips of his ears. He whips his head to send a wide-eyed look at Saeran, who is smirking a little. Saeran tilts his head, his expression rather devilish for one so young.

“What?” He says. “You don’t think so?”

Saeyoung bristles. “That’s not the _point_!”

“...Um?”

Both brothers flinch in shock, then turn to see Mi-Cha standing closer to them. She tilts her head with wide eyes, her hand curled into a fist near her chin.

“Is...is everything o-okay?”

Saeyoung shares a look with Saeran. The two stare at each other for longer than a beat, but enough for them to reach an understanding. They nod to each other, and then turn to face Mi-Cha. Saeyoung pastes on a grin, while Saeran wears a smaller smile.

“’Sup, little lady,” Saeyoung says, boisterous and playful. With a wink, he continues, “Name’s Saeyoung Choi, and this nerd—”

He wraps an arm around Saeran and draws him close.

“—is my twin bro, Saeran.”

“ _I’m_ the nerd. _Really_?” Saeran quirks an eyebrow, muttering, “Talk about kettle calling the pot black.”

“Hush, you. I’m giving us the epic entrance we deserve.”

“If _this_ is our epic entrance, we’re in more trouble than I thought.”

“Hey—!”

Mi-Cha watches as the boys start bickering with each other, snorting again. Her mouth forms a smile, a giggle escaping her again.

Perhaps this plan of hers would work better than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know what you're asking:
> 
> Why is Saeran speaking to MC if he's a selective mute?
> 
> Believe it or not, that was an accident. An accident I was conscious of, but one all the same. Turns out Saeran is quite a force of nature all on his own, even while being a Smol Choi Boi


End file.
